Scientifically incorrect
by Naidoo
Summary: When Morelli is concerned for Stephanie and whether she is as satisfied with her relationship with Ranger as she should be, Stephanie sets out to explain a few things to Joe. Not really Joe-Bashing, but he is an idiot. Rating just to be safe. Silly oneshot based on something I read.


_A/N: Based on an actual tidbit I read in the latest TIME issue last week. When reading it, I obviously couldn't help but think about Ranger. And Steph disagreeing. Not really Morelli-bashing, but not super Morelli-friendly either._

* * *

I liked food. That was a fact. A fact that needn't to be argued. Even Ranger had understood that – though it had taken him a while.

I was just enjoying my serving of pie when I noticed out of the corner of my eye a familiar person walking towards me.

"I'm worried about you, Cupcake," Joe said without much fuss, sitting down opposite of me and looking at me. _Sure, feel free to join me_ , I thought to myself.

I raised an eyebrow, uncertain about his statement. First of all, we had called it quits over six moths ago. This time for sure. Also, I hadn't been in any accidents, fights or similar things lately. My current car was still running and had been for the past six months – which was some sort of record seeing my history with cars before.

So I wasn't quite sure what he was worried about and why it was concerning me. But I guess I was about to find out. Joe wasn't the kind of playing-guessing-games kind of guy.

"What happened?" I finally asked.

Instead of answering my question he simply threw a current copy of TIME magazine on the table. _That_ made me raise my eyebrows even more. Morelli wasn't really the TIME reading guy to be honest.

On the cover was someone I knew I recognized, but couldn't place. Since the headline read "Next Generation Leaders" I assumed he was somewhat important.

"There is an article in here-," he started, grabbed the magazine and thumped through it until he found what he was looking for. Putting it in front of me again he pointed towards a tiny tidbit in the corner.

"I'd hardly call that an article," I said, still wondering what was going on. Bringing my attention back to the magazine I found out what his _concern_ was.

"Intense workout regimens may lower men's sex drives," I read the headline of the small information box. I looked from the magazine in front of me to Joe. "Seriously?" I asked, unimpressed, since I finally understood what his worry was about. "Don't you have anything else to worry about? Like criminals? Or catching them? Or your own love life?"

"Look, I just want to make sure Manoso gets the job done."

"Excuse me?" I said, not sure what else to do as far as reactions went. "The _job_?" I asked pissed. What the hell?

"Well, you know what I mean. I didn't mean…. You know….It isn't like… well… you know what I mean. Not that is a duty but…," he sputtered himself from word to word.

"I'm glad to know that my satisfaction isn't seen as a duty to you," I remarked dryly. Why again had I been dating him?

"You know what I mean…" he tried defensively. "And can we not make this about me?"

"Well… excuse me," I said. "You came to me, waiving this magazine, being more concerned about my sex life than I am myself. So how can this not be about you?"

He was about to say something, but I held up my hand, stopping him before he could say anything.

"But if it helps you sleep at night...you can stop worrying and being concerned."

The somewhat smug grin which he was displaying before vanished all of a sudden.

"You know, I wanted to be a good friend and show you I'm interested in your wellbeing," he answered tense at which I was almost rolling my eyes.

"Wellbeing?" I asked amused. "The only thing you are interested in is winning some strange unofficial pissing contest. If you need to feel superior to anything I'd rather you leave me out of it and don't make it about something that is more personal to me than you. As a matter of fact I seem to have trouble understanding why you are now more concerned about my _wellbeing_ and that my needs are taken care of than when we were dating."

"Well…" he started, trying for nonchalant. As if!

"And while we are on the topic and you seem so very fascinated and concerned – Ranger is doing a way better job than you ever managed to," I argues and it was arguably a low shot, but he was pretty much asking for it. If you asked for feedback – though he didn't really ask for it directly or feedback as such – you couldn't complain when it wasn't all stellar. I wasn't usually into sharing these sort of personal details, but I also sure as hell wasn't going to feed his ego.

He puffed and was looking like he was about to explode – which I blamed on his Italian temper.

"Fine," he said, getting up, huffing some more. "But don't come running when things with Manoso don't work out or he all of a sudden turns out to be the thug we all know he is…"

I raised both eyebrows at that, having wondered when the thug-comment would make a comeback.

"Not sure if you realized, but Ranger and me have been doing this for the last half year, which is longer than what we managed to stick together. I'd say it is a pretty safe bet that things work out just fine – for me anyway. So don't save yourself on my account cause I might not come running anytime soon – or ever."

Not saying anything else, Morelli more or less hightailed out of the diner, leaving me to my own devices and my food. Not for long however. My phone rang not even a minute after the diner-door had closed behind Morelli.

"Babe," was all I heard when answering the call.

"Ranger," I replied, being almost certain why he called. The grapevine worked fast, but usually not that fast in informing Ranger. But I was by the looks of it surrounded by several cops – most in civilian clothing – and I assumed one or several ones fed my and Morelli's exchange to one of the MerryMen. These guys were after all very well connected for supposedly being thugs.

"I had to do something," I just said after there was silence for a few moments. It isn't like ranger would have been pissed because I made him come out as champion in the rather utterly male version of _Show me yours and I'll you mine._

"Not getting involved in his mind tricks and maybe throwing the paper back at him would have worked as well. As would have telling him to just leave," Ranger remarked.

"Morelli can be rather dense in all fairness and he would have just brought it back up sooner or later than…"

"And now he won't?" Ranger asked amused and I had to admit he had a point. Morelli was probably now seeing this as a challenge and rounding up women, trying to prove a point. Not that I cared. I had all I needed in a man. And there was no need for me step back from what I had.

As if reading my mind – which my man in black was occasionally known to do – he went on, making a suggestion.

"Why don't you cancel that order of dessert, get back to RangeMan and let me show you how incorrect these scientific findings are?" he suggested and I already was trying to get my waitress' attention.

As I said before, I love food and especially dessert. But there is one thing I love more – and that was the man on the other side of that phone.

I changed my dessert to "to go", hearing Ranger chuckle on the other end and paid before making way back to him – probably breaking a speed limit or two.

Strangely enough, I realized, I never had been in such a hurry with Morelli. Unless I was off sugar, but that didn't count.

 **##########THE END##########**


End file.
